


Dead End

by AmbrosiaRush



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: Gen, Ruse, Undercover, partners, special agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-16 13:46:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmbrosiaRush/pseuds/AmbrosiaRush
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Callen hates the 'turned on my partner' routine, after all, he's always the one taking a punch to the face and getting stuffed in the trunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead End

G Callen knew why he was the one prepping to get a fist to the face. Dirty cop turns on his partner routine had a pretty good success rate and nine times out of ten he and Sam got the information they needed from it. Unfortunately for Callen, he was always the one to get a good punch to the face, after all, it was more believable that with Sam's size, he would be the one to take down Callen with his smaller stature, besides, he fit in the trunk easier. Shaking out his hands he let out a couple quick breaths. "Okay, do it," Callen said raising his head a little.

Sam hated the routine just as much as his partner did but they had little time to find out where those missiles were getting sent and didn't have time to build loyalty the old fashioned way with the homegrown terrorist group. He hated having to hurt his partner, after all, a good portion of his job was to protect his partner. Sam's hand balled into a fist, and he froze for a second. He really hated this plan.

"Just do it, you hit like a little girl anyways," Callen taunted, wanting to get it done and over with.

Sam rolled his eyes. There was a fine line between throwing a good punch for show and genuinely harming his partner. He threw a weak punch and Callen dodged out of the way. "Sorry," Callen said shaking his head. "That was my bad." He took a step back into punching range and motioned with both hands in a 'bring it' gesture. "Do it." Sam sighed, pulled back and threw a second punch. Callen ducked back and almost laughed. "Sorry," Callen said snickering.

"Quit messing around, G," Sam said getting agitated, he already didn't like the plan but dealing with his partners antics weren't making him any happier with it.

"Sorry, sorry," Callen replied. "I'm just making sure I get a good punch, you keep throwing those little sissy punches I'm going to end up having to take a full beating before I get a bruise for show."

Sam shook his head, his eyes going skyward as he wondered how he had gotten stuck with such an infuriating partner. He threw the next punch with a little more force, and this time hit home. Callen's head turned with the force, his hand going to his cheek and he stumbled back a few steps before finding his footing again. He spat out a little blood and removed his hand. "Good?" Callen asked slowly moving his jaw side to side a few times working out the pain.

"Looks like it'll bruise," Sam agreed with a nod

"Good," Callen said taking out his handcuffs and cuffing one hand lightly and then putting both hands behind his back and cuffing his other. He sat at the back of the empty trunk. "Don't drive around too long," he said leaning back, falling in. "It's hot out."

"I don't know, I'm kind of hungry," Sam responded as Callen got his legs in. "Maybe I'll get take out."

"Not funny," Callen growled, his blue eyes a sharp contrast to the dark interior of the trunk.

"Maybe I'll stop at one of those Chinese All-You-Can-Eat-Buffets," Sam continued. "Leave you parked in the sun."

With his hands behind his back he glared. "You can't see it, but I'm flipping you off."

Sam shook his head, checked to make sure all of Callen's limbs were inside the trunk. "You good?" he asked still feeling guilty for the bruise that was turning purple on Callen's face.

"Yeah, lets just get this over with," Callen replied grumpily.

With a sigh, Sam slammed the trunk closed.

::

Time seemed to slow for Callen in the claustrophobic space, not that he himself was claustrophobic the small space didn't bother him, the sweltering heat did a bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck and he shifted so he wasn't laying so awkwardly on his arms. He rocked as the car took a turn a bit wide. "Learn to drive!" Callen shouted wondering if Sam could hear him.

"I don't care," Callen muttered to himself. "Next time, he's going in the trunk."

The car was slowing down and then it stopped completely. "Game time," Callen muttered to himself as he waited. The car rocked a bit with the force of a slammed door. Callen waited. Sam would go in and talk to the guys playing the part of a bad cop turned on his partner. A little 'check it out brought my partner as proof,' the trunk would open, Callen would look vulnerable and confused. They'd hopefully they'd get a name, a lead, anything to get their investigation moving again, take down the bad guys, go home in one piece.

But rarely does anything go as planned.

Gunshots rang out and Callen swore his blood ran cold. _Sam_. He squirmed pushing the cuffs off his hands since they were so loose. His heart hammering violently in his chest. He tried to keep his head, his hands running along the inside of the trunk trying to find the emergency lever that Hetty had the NCIS mechanics install just incase one of them needed to get out on a rouse like this. A few more gunshots and he realized his hands were trembling. Finding the lever he pulled away the patch of material, the sound of velcro ripping seemed loud in the enclosed space. The patch ensured that the lever wouldn't get pulled or damaged through everyday use. He grabbed the metal bar and pulled it toward himself. He heard the click and pushed the trunk open.

His shut his eyes against the sudden light but quickly opened them, the cooler air drying the sweat on his skin as he hurried out in a slightly uncoordinated manner. He looked around as he found a second patch of velcro on the far side and ripped it away exposing a Glock 17 and a clip of ammo, he grabbed both and shoved the clip into place and turned the safety off. It took a second of looking around to get his bearings, the gunfire had ceased. Seconds passed and he was genuinely terrified as he ran across the parking lot to the small shady business building. What if Sam had been shot? What if he was wounded? What if he was dead? Taking a few seconds to breathe he moved into the building, the dirty lobby empty. Guilt and fear weighed heavily on his shoulders, part of his job as Sam's partner was keeping him safe and he had the overwhelming feeling he had failed in such a duty. Sam's wife and children were forefront in his mind as he moved quickly, almost carelessly checking rooms.

The door at the end of the hall opened and Callen had his gun trained before he consciously thought the movement through, it was pure instinct and training. Sam emerged and gave him a look. "Put that thing down."

Callen took a few deep breaths and lowered his gun, the adrenaline surge giving way to relief. "What the Hell Sam?" he sounded a little agitated but he was so relieved to see his partner was all in one piece.

"They didn't want to trade," Sam said with an agitated shrugged. "I got to call the coroners office."

"Great, another _dead_ end," Callen replied with a bit of a smirk.

Sam groaned. "That was awful, G."


End file.
